


Hero

by TheBlackMagister



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Comfort Sex, Fix-It, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mental Instability, Multi, Night Terrors, Past Character Death, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4881331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackMagister/pseuds/TheBlackMagister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~AU where Sam, Mike, and Josh leave the mines together~<br/>When they get out of the mines, Josh is wrecked beyond belief. He tries everything to erase the memories; therapy, drugs, alcohol. It doesn't work. The only thing he can rely on are the two constants in his life - Chris and Mike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> im until dawn trash dont look at me

When they get out of the mines, Josh is fucking wrecked.

He's leaning so heavily on Mike, Mike is pretty much carrying him. It's difficult to get him into - and out of - the lake to the lodge. Sam says something about getting him a change of clothes when they arrive but Mike is only half listening; Josh is heavy and all efforts are going into keeping him upright. His deranged mutters and outbursts had quieted into incoherent mumbles; although if Mike listens closely he can hear "Hannah" and "Beth" and "sorry."

He doesn't listen too close.

By the time they get to the lodge Josh is completely silent. Mike can't help but worry about him; he had been fragile to start with and now, with all the trauma he's been through? Mike can't see him recovering. At least not any time soon. He stumbles going down the stairs to the basement and it takes both Mike and Sam grabbing him to steady him. He doesn't even bat an eyelash at the fact he'd nearly smashed his face in on the floor. Chris is the one to open the door when they get there; the other girls gasp and draw away. Sam immediately moves over to Ashley, wraps her up and holds her. Josh seems to feel the stares because he whimpers, hides against Mike's chest. Mike can't help himself; his arms slide around the shorter boy, shielding him protectively. Chris quirks an eyebrow but doesn't say anything, instead shedding a coat, then two. Together they get off Josh's overalls that are soaked from the chest down. When Josh starts to shiver violently Chris wraps the coats around him, but Mike doesn't, can't, let Josh go. He feels the urge to protect the boy, to save him.

Ashley curls up in Sam's lap. Matt is holding Jessica and Emily to him defensively. And Josh is smushed between Mike and Chris. He's warming up between the two other men; his shivering is lessening, although he's still trembling with terror, eyes blank, seeing nothing. Eventually Ash, Em, and Chris end up falling asleep. Not Josh. He can't sleep, he can't slow his thoughts, his mind, long enough to relax to sleep, and besides he knows if he sleeps he's going to see  _it_ again, he's going to see Hannah and Beth and the Wendigos and they're going to be mad and they're going to hurt him. He can't. He won't.

Jessica is the only one who's phone has any charge left. Finally she croaks, "6 A.M.," and they begin to stir. Dawn is almost upon them and they'll be rescued soon, right? and even if they aren't the Wendigos don't hunt during the day. Josh doesn't move when the rest of them do, and it takes Chris coaxing, murmuring soft comforting words, to get him to stand shakily. The two shielded him, defensive of the fragile boy between them. The sun is rising when they stumble up the stairs; Sam pushes open the door and they emerge outside. It's cold and Josh, still damp, begins to shiver again, and Chris wraps around him. They can see the helicopter circling, beginning to lower, but the noise only seems to irritate Josh's condition because he flinches, cries out, and Mike grabs him around the waist to keep him from fleeing. He squirms in the other's arms as Mike squints up at the helicopter and prays that it comes down faster.

When it lands it takes both Mike and Chris securing him and dragging him into the helicopter before he goes completely limp. They huddle in their groups, nervous, jumpy, and the paramedic that came doesn't seem to know what to do with them. It's obvious she wants to check out Josh but neither Mike nor Chris are ready to let him go, to stop holding him and comforting him and being with him. Finally she goes to check out the rest of the kids. She starts with Jess who is in the next worst physical condition and works her way through.

Finally, reluctantly, Mike and Chris are pried away from the third so Josh can be looked at. Josh obviously doesn't like that one fucking bit because the second the two get up he whines and clings to them, because they're warm and kind and safe and everything he needs right now. Chris croons softly to him, strokes the dark brown locks and promises he won't be alone again, promises he's safe and going to be taken care of. Josh whimpers when he pulls away and he feels his heart twist and shatter into a thousand pieces because he doesn't want Josh to feel like that, he doesn't want his best friend to feel like he was abandoning him and he doesn't want to think about the fact that Josh is so fragile.

As soon as the nurse gives the all clear Chris is back at Josh's side. Josh presses into him, glances at his face and then away but doesn't protest when he slides their hands together. On Josh's other side Mike settles and Josh tentatively reaches for his hand as well. Mike tells himself that he's protecting Josh because of the effort he and Sam went to to get the guy back, that it's nothing deeper than that and he's only defensive because he doesn't want that work to be lost. That's it.

After a while Josh relaxes. Chris glances down; the other has either fallen asleep or simply passed out from exhaustion. Gently he rubs Josh's back, hoping, maybe, to persuade some lighter dreams. Josh shifts, nuzzles up under his chin, and he sighs softly. He has the urge to not let anybody else into their circle, into their three, if only to keep Josh from getting hurt any more because he'd be damned if he let that happen, Josh didn't deserve that. Sure, Josh had been a shitty friend, Josh had done shitty things. But that wasn't a  _reason_ for him to suffer. It wasn't any good reason for anybody to hurt like that.

Sadly he wonders when exactly he'd lost Josh. Maybe it had been when they'd gone out into the snow, calling for Hannah and Beth. Maybe it was losing their tracks in the woods, unable to find the girls. But no; Chris was sure that it was neither of those. He was pretty sure it was when they'd woke up to find the rest of the group gathered around the table looking solemn, and Josh had asked what happened and if someone died, and Sam had taken him to the side to break the news: the girls had run off in the night and gone missing because of a dumb prank. Josh had immediately grabbed a coat and gone out; Chris followed him, begging him to come back. Josh had turned around then and snapped at him,

_"Either you're with me or you're not, Cochise. You can help me look for my fucking sisters or you can go back to those assholes and god damn traitors."_

And Chris hadn't had to make a choice. He had to stick with Josh. He had to stay with his best friend. He should've seen that there was something wrong with Josh then, should've been able to tell that Josh was unstable. And yet he'd pushed the feelings to the side, told himself Josh was just upset and scared. And by the time he'd noticed; Josh was too far gone. And right now? Looking at the poor guy curled up against his side, looking uncomfortable and unhappy even in his sleep?

He wasn't sure if he was ever going to get Josh back.


	2. Chapter 2

When Josh wakes, it's raining. 

He knows because he can hear it on the roof above his head. Which, now that he thinks about it, is splitting open. A groan escapes him and it echoes tinnily in the empty room he's in and-

-and he's alone. He's alone and fuck where are the others is Chris okay what happened to them? All he could remember was getting dragged out of the shed and then that was it, but he feels like he remembers being with Chris, or maybe it's a memory? He can't think straight. He's panicking, he can't breathe and all he wants to know is if his friends are okay, do they even still want to be his friends? And there's an annoying  _fucking_ beeping next to his head that he half wishes would stop. 

He makes to sit up and pain shoots across his chest. He's restrained to the bed anyway, hands and feet tied down and immobile so he can't move. Why is he tied down? He's not dangerous, he didn't ever hurt anybody - well, there was Ashley, but he hadn't meant that, he'd just been so  _mad_. She'd stabbed him with scissors! Could she not stop hurting the Washington kids?

He's shivering. The room is cold. He misses Chris and Mike's warmth. He makes another soft sound, testing his vocal cords, his voice. He can still talk, at least. He's trying to formulate a plan with no luck when the door opens, a white-clad doctor steps in and fuck no it's just like the  _other place_ where they hurt him, tortured him, to make him "normal" and he'd had to pretend he was okay. His shield is already going up; he calms himself and the beeping evens out, and he makes the connection that it's his own heartbeat.

 _That's dumb,_ he scoffs to himself.  _I can already hear my heartbeat._

Still, it takes a lot of willpower to keep it steady as the doctor approaches. Doctors scare him especially since - well. Ever, practically. For as long as he can remember, really. This one, though, smiles at him as if in comfort.

"We're just gonna check up on your wounds, see what's going on, okay?"

"Kay," He mumbles uncertainly. What does that mean? Was he hurt _outside_? Ugh. His head aches. The doctor pulls up his shirt. Everything's moving in slow motion. He can't tell what's real. He's so tired…

* * *

He spends about a month in bed before being deemed physically healthy. The first chance he gets to stretch he does so before they can tie him back up. They don't. 

However things aren't as hunky-dory as he knows the doctors want them to be. He can't talk to them, he can't really talk to anyone. Whether he won't or can't nobody can tell - he just doesn't feel like it. He's nervous, touchy. He has to see a therapist 4 times a week and fuck he hates it. She doesn't get it. She doesn't understand. He misses the others. Sam and Chris, mostly. They listened. They tried to understand. They weren't fucking fake.

About May - just after his birthday - he's instructed by Mrs. Bitch (his therapist, as he refers to her) to contact one of his old friends with the phone in the cafeteria. What an idiot, he thinks sourly, staring at the phone; they don't want to talk to him. 

Inhale. Exhale. He does it when he's nervous. Counts his breath. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. Finally he picks it up and dials. Chris first. Chris had been his closest friend.

It rings. Once - twice - three times. He won't answer. Josh's hands shake. He won't care. He's forgotten Josh. He's- Chris's warm voice shocks Josh. He sounds sleepy. It's 6 AM.

"Hello?"

Josh can't speak. His heart is in his throat he's freaking out he's gonna throw up-

"Hello? Who is this?"

Josh slams the phone back on the reciever. He can't. He's choking. He stumbles away from the phone and he's crying God damnit.

He doesn't return to the cafeteria later. 


	3. Chapter 3

It takes Josh another several months to work himself into making another phone call.

He can't call Chris again. He can't. So instead he calls Sam. Of everybody, he thinks, she would be least mad with him. She had understood his turmoil when his sisters had died. She'd listened. Connected. She made him feel less crazy, less fucked up. And he felt safe, felt like she understood; she had been the confidant for all three Washington children, when Hannah and Beth were-

Never mind.

So it's her number he dials first. He doesn't feel the same kind of apprehension as he had felt calling Chris. He's sure - or at least, hopeful - that she'll listen to him. She may hate him; she may not understand. But she'll listen. 

She picks up on the second ring. "'Lo?"

He made sure to get the time right. No 6 A.M. calls. He pauses, hesitates. Say something, damnit-

"Sam?"

What a stupid question. Of course it's Sam. She's quiet. Fuck. He fucked up. Why had he thought she would talk to him? Why would anyone? After what he had done?

"Josh?" She sounds confused. Hesitant. She's probably hoping it's not him. Or maybe - maybe she's hoping it is, so she can bitch him out. He'd deserve it. He swallows thickly. 

"Y-yeah."

"What's the occasion?" Is she joking? His heart's beating too loud. Fuck he's scared. A clang makes him jump about fifty feet and she swears softly. 

"I-" He clears his throat, "Just, uh, my - my therapist said I should contact one of you and.." Every word makes him sound more like an idiot. He feels uncomfortably hot. He mutters a swear under his breath. "Sorry."

 "No, no, it's - it's fine, I, uh.. just, wasn't expecting it. Are - I mean - how are you, are you doing okay..?"

"I - I guess," He shifts; it's not his favorite subject but at least he's making conversation? his therapist would be proud, "I'm - getting help, y'know."

"Good! That's good, I'm proud of you."

And there's that warmth and he realizes he's been so cold. Sam's praise - he feels - good. It makes him feel good about himself and he hasn't felt that in a long time. He's missed having someone to talk to. Someone to comfort him. 

"There's, um, talk of - letting me out soon, even. I think that's good," He pauses but he's sure she's beaming. "Right?"

"It is! They really think you're better. I'm really happy for you, Josh. Have you called anyone else?"

"Um, no.. well - I called Chris earlier this year but, uh, I wasn't.. I mean, I sort of.. panicked?" He sounds dumb again. Fuck. The anxiety is back. What if she's playing a prank, how does he even know this is real? The meds are supposed to stop the hallucinations but how does he know they work?

"Oh? He mentioned an odd call and I was wondering. But, Josh," Her voice softens, "You can always talk to me, okay? I'm still your friend."

"Okay." He's choking up. "Thank you, Sam. For real."

"Don't worry about it. Look, I gotta get to class, okay? But I'll tell Chris and - well, I'll let who I see know you're okay. We've all been worried. And remember to call me. I want to know how you're doing until you get out."

"Okay." Josh swallows. "I'll call. I promise."

"Good. Take care of yourself."

"Okay," Josh repeats. "Okay. Bye."

She hangs up first. His hands are shaking as he puts the phone down. His entire body is shaking. And yet he's happy. He feels better. Lighter. Sam always makes him feel good. He exhales, leans back in his chair. They care, they all care. They don't hate him. It becomes his mantra for the day - to therapy, where his therapist notices his change in mood and he shyly confesses to talking to Sam; and sitting in his room alone until late when he's given his sleeping medication. He doesn't want to let the thought go, he can't. He needs it, because damnit, they care. His friends still fucking care about him and he can't just give up anymore. He's not going to. The room is dark around him save for the nightlight across the room but he feels brighter than ever. Not even the thought of the nightmares he knows are to come can't seem to put out the flame that has sprung in his heart. 

Cause if his friends care, after the shit he pulled, then shit. He's gonna care too, if it kills him. 


	4. Chapter 4

It's only a month before the higher-ups decide he's allowed to leave. 

When his therapist explains, he's somewhere between excited and downright terrified. There's a process, she says; he's going to have to answer some questions before they deem him fit for regular life. He's not good at questions - or rather, he's not good at _answering_ questions. He's never sure what exactly they want to hear so he never knows what to say. Still; if doing so helps him get out he's ready to at least try. He's getting homesick, going stir-crazy, locked up in the same rooms all the time. He's ready for a proper change of scenery. 

The only problem, which hasn't yet been brought up, is the fact that he doesn't have a place to stay. His parents won't take him back, he's damn sure of that. He has no idea where anybody is - and by anybody he really simply means Sam. Despite her words of comfort that they _all_ care he's slipping back into a depression. He knows it's normal, or his therapist says as much, but he feels terrible; he's struggling. 

"Sam?"

He's called her like they promised he would, just before his questioning. His mouth is dry and he feels queasy, his stomach is churning and vaguely he wonders what would happen if he vomited on the doctor. Would they make him stay longer? The thought simply serves to make him more nauseous. Not good. Stop thinking, talk to Sam. 

"Josh?"

Not Sam. Where's Sam, damnit? His breath catches in his throat and he coughs, nearly choking. 

"Hi Ash is Sam around?" It comes out more as one word than one sentence, _fuck_ , Ash shouldn't make him nervous like this. He's now about 95% sure he's about to vomit. People passing in the hallway are starting to look and his stomach ties itself solidly in knots.

"Yeah, she's just in the other room. Why?" Ash sounds suspicious. No use lying. Lying makes you untrustworthy. That's what his therapist tells him; although whether or not he believes her is debatable. Still, if he lied to her she'd eventually find out and probably hate him more than she enevitably already does.

"I need to talk to her 'cause they're about to let me go but she's my coach and I promised I would call her and - yeah." He's fumbling with his words, trying to make sure he gets his point across without too much trouble. God, he's still so bad at talking to people. She's quiet for a moment and he's entirely convinced she's going to tell him to fuck off and not call back. Shit. He doesn't know what he'll do if that happens.

"Fine, whatever, hold your horses. Sam-"

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck thank God. He inhales, exhales, listens to the shuffling on the other end with a feeling of mixed apprehension and relief. Sam sounds truly apologetic when she answers with an, "I'm sorry," and he just laughs and shakes his head even though she can't see him.

"It's fine, Sammy," He murmurs. "Don't worry about it."

"So when are they bringing you in?"

"A-as soon as I get off the phone." He bites down on his lower lip. She hums.

"Remember what we talked about. Short, simple answers. They won't expect more than that of you. You'll do fine, Josh."

"I just - I can't - I wish I knew what they were going to ask so I could plan ahead." He wonders if he sounds as vaguely desperate as he feels. He hates going into things unprepared but it's nothing new to Sam; he always has. "I feel like a little kid who just got in trouble for eating the last cookie," and that makes her laugh. He feels a little better. He's still got it.

"Well, Mr. Cookie Stealer, I'll tell you this much; you won't get in nearly as much trouble as you think you will. Trust me. You'll go in there and you'll blow past those questions and then you'll be free."

"I dunno, Sam.." He's fidgeting. The doctors are getting impatient. "I - I think I gotta go. They're looking at me funny. Just - I'll - I'll see you - sometime."

"Josh." Her voice takes on a motherly tone and for a moment it soothes his racing heart. "You'll be fine, dude. I promise. Now go. I'll see you later."

He can't make himself say 'goodbye'. He just mumbles a thanks and hangs up, glances at the guards. They still think he's dangerous; his heart sinks. He's never getting out of here. He stands up and lets them lead him into the ~~torture chamber~~  interrogation room.

So begins an hour of absolute hell.

* * *

It's a lot of waiting.

They question. He answers. They pause and he waits. Rinse, repeat. Finally they run out of questions and leave the room, and he waits some more. He's probably done more waiting now than he ever has in his entire life; and patience has never been a virtue for him. He fidgets while he waits, bites lips and nails, shifts his clothes and taps his feet, anything to take his mind off of the inevitable fate. He swears he's waited an eternity when they come back - although it's only been about fifteen minutes - he's nervous. They don't speak, just rifle through his folder.

He waits.

Finally they glance at him; they look serious. Fuck. He's not getting out. His heartbeat speeds up, breath hitches, fuck, he's going to die in here. Instead they look back at his folder and say, dismissively, that he's free to go and he'll find a change of clothes outside. Like it doesn't matter. Like they didn't just change his life. He's unsteady on his feet when he gets up, nearly falls against the wall but when he pushes out into the reception area he's never wanted to start laughing more. He's fucking free.

Even better is Sam lounging in one of the chairs. Queen of the world, she is. Ash looks a little uncomfortable but smiles all the same when he exits. Sam glances up and beams, waving him over, and although his steps are shaky - he's ready for proper food, damnit - he's grinning too.

"I brought clothes," Sam says casually, standing up and throwing the magazine down, "They don't have  _any_ good reading material here, can you believe it? It's so dull. Me and Ash and Chris, we got a house, and I forgot how bland hospitals are, you're gonna love it when we get back."

"What do you mean?" Josh's grin's faded. He still doesn't have anywhere to go; the talk of getting a house has made him remember as much. Sam glances at him, eyebrows knitting together.

"Well, I mean, you're staying with us. Aren't you? I mean we never talked about it, I just assumed it was a given, y'know."

Josh chokes for a moment and then, against his better judgement, hugs her. She pats his back; she's still short. As ever. He laughs shakily and it's the first happy sound he's made in a long time. "Thank you," His voice is thick, "God, thank you, Sam."

"Alright, alright." She shakes her head, grins at him. "You're gonna make me all emotional too, man. Now let's get home and get you changed and food and shit. I could go for lunch, too, thinking on it."

She slips one hand into Ash's and hooks her other arm with Josh's, steering both parties out of the hospital. Josh takes a moment while she unlocks the car to appreciate the outside. He'd never done so before; he liked being inside; but the fresh air, the birds, the wind, it's never been so refreshing. He knows he probably looks funny to passerby on the street, a man standing in all white just enjoying the air, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care and Ash doesn't care and Sam doesn't care, because damnit,

 _he's free_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will the happy son remain happy?? probably not because i don't love myself :>


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short??? i am sorry friends

Unfortunately it's too cold for him to stand around all day; and after a minute Sam herds him into the backseat, nodding to the clothes.

"You can change now or when we get back to the house, it doesn't matter."

He wants to but he doesn't. The clothes he's in now are warm but they still smell like the hospital, and after all he's gotten good at changing without stripping completely. Maybe that's a bad thing. Still, he supposes, he probably shouldn't stay in the all-white hospital clothes. He fumbles a little switching t-shirts into the black one Sam had brought - it's a little big but that's okay. Bigger clothes always make him feel better and he's a little impressed she remembered. The pants aren't jeans like he'd expected, either. Instead they're warm sweatpants, loose and soft. God. Sam's hitting all his weak points today.

He falls asleep on the drive home so he's just a little disoriented when Sam shakes him gently. He flinches at first, it's automatic and immediately after he feels guilty. He shoots her an apologetic glance as he slips out of the car and she just shrugs, blinking affectionately at him.

"Sorry," He tacks on lamely, "I mean - habit."

"Don't worry about it." She nudges him, smiling softly at her practically-brother. She's known the guy for ages and, yeah, she knows just how touchy he can be. "So, I gathered up as many as were around. Obviously Chris is staying with us but Matt, Emily, and Jess are here, too. And Mike is supposed to be coming but, fucking bastard is late, as usual."

Josh pauses, glances at her as though she's sprouted another head. "They came," He hesitates, feeling self-absorbed, "To see - me?"

"Of course they came to see you." Sam laughs softly, nudges him and links an arm with his. "We missed you, man. Although Chris has been pining since we got back, 'is he okay', 'can we go see him', you know." She grins at his dumbfounded expression. "Come on. Let's go see them, huh?"

Josh nods, feet carrying him numbly along. Sam takes Ash's hand and glances at her, and Josh almost wants to aww at them. Instead he focuses on climbing the stairs and trembles when his left leg threatens to give out. It had been the broken one so he's not surprised.

When he steps in he's basically swarmed. Panic rises in his chest for a moment, imagining the Wendigos down in the mines, before he realizes it's just people. There's not even that many - 3. Sam comes to his rescue again; "Give him space, ya animals," she jokes, although she's serious. He exhales. It's not that he's unhappy to see them it's just - he's still uncomfortable being crowded. Sam winks at him secretly before leading the little party into the living room. He counts; Jess and Emily and Matt. But-?

"Chrissy is in the bathroom," Jess huffs in Sam's direction, chilling on the couch with her legs in Matt's lap, "A bad timing in having to piss."

Josh relaxes, if only slightly, as her words are backed up by a flushing toilet. Sam gestures for him to sit and he does so, letting out an involuntary sigh of relief. It feels nice to relax for once, on a soft couch. It's so different from the stiff, hard chairs and practically stone mattresses. He can hear footsteps on the stairs and bites his lip. Sam gives him a soothing glance. 

"Sam, you need a-" Chris stops at the bottom of the staircase, eyes meeting Josh's, and Josh's heart seems to stop and he regrets this so, so much now. He can't seem to let go of the couch. "Josh," Chris sounds stunned and Josh freezes up when the blond man moves over and-

He lets out a strangled, almost needy sound into Chris' chest. He's tensed up but God Chris is so warm. Josh hadn't thought about how much he missed Chris in the hospital and now the feeling is overwhelming. He can't stop shaking, gasping and half-whimpering. Chris strokes Josh's hair but he's shaking too. "I missed you," Josh mumbles half-coherently. "Chris I'm so-"

"Don't," Chris mutters. "Don't be."

"Mike's here," Jess comments softly to Sam, making sure the two don't hear. Sam nods, getting up and moving into the hallway. Mike's solemn, for once; "He's already here?" and he makes some sort of jerky movement when Sam nods. She steps back to let him in and he seems stiff as he moves past her, down the hall. He makes another sharp movement at the sight of Josh enveloped in Chris and his steps are more hasty over to them. He kneels, touches Josh's face, thumbs stroking away tears, and Josh sniffles.

He's finally fucking home. 


End file.
